More Images

In Sarasota,

a draw for birds, and for birders

By ERIC ERNST

Published: Monday, January 27, 2014 at 1:00 a.m.

Last Modified: Sunday, January 26, 2014 at 10:28 p.m.

In the field, when they are not peering through binoculars or checking off their life lists, avid birders often compare notes to learn what the hot sightings are that day. So it was last year when Jeanne Dubi, perched on a rocky bluff overlooking the Monterey coast in California, struck up a conversation with a pair of strangers.

After the obligatory "What have you seen?" the talk turned to "Where are you from?"

"Sarasota, Fla.," Dubi told them.

Their faces lit up. "Oh," one of them said. "The Celery Fields."

Not the Ringling Museum. Not Mote Marine Laboratory. Not Siesta Beach, once rated the No. 1 beach in the country.

What these Californians pictured when they thought of Sarasota was a 444-acre expanse of fields, lakes and marshes -- which also happens to be an ambitious drainage project -- that has turned Sarasota County into a top-notch destination for birders.

Dubi's story illustrates what has been accomplished through the imagination, good planning and cooperation of Sarasota County government and the Sarasota Audubon Society, of which Dubi is president.

Dubi moved here from New York in 1997 and found the Celery Fields soon afterward.

"It was all mounds of dirt then. But I started to keep a bird list. When I got to 132 species I went to Audubon and said, 'This is such a good birding site, what can we do to protect it?'"

Today, the species count at the Celery Fields is 217, impressive considering the count for the entire county is 300. Equally important to bird aficionados, "the birds you see here are very worth coming to see," Dubi says.

One year, a migration of swallows so massive it was picked up by radar descended on the fields. "It was an amazing sight, like watching the wildebeests," Dubi says. Researchers from Tulane and Louisiana State universities came to study the phenomenon.

And, as successful as the site has been as a birding attraction, it's soon to improve when Audubon builds a $1 million visitor center there.

Birthed by Bertha

The Celery Fields' history dates to 1910, when Chicago socialite Bertha Palmer bought 90,000 acres in the Sarasota area.

Palmer set aside 25,000 acres for farming, some of it in northeast Sarasota east of Honore Avenue, named for her son. When drained, much of that former sawgrass marshland had excellent soil, enriched by eons of rotting vegetation.

The Celery Fields earned its name from its primary crop for about 70 years. At one time, Sarasota was the largest producer of celery in Florida and the seventh largest in the United States. But by 1992, farming had lowered the elevation of the land and depleted the soil.

Then came the rain. Twenty-two inches fell over a few days. It sent water from the fields into Phillippi Creek and flooded 200 homes in the creek basin.

The county had to do something, so it bought the Celery Fields -- at the eastern edge of the basin -- and embarked on a $24 million project of weirs, gates, canals, drain pipes and wetlands restoration.

The idea was to resurrect some of the historic drainage patterns, hold water during heavy rains, let sediments settle, lessen the threat of floods and improve the quality of the water that eventually drains through the basin into Roberts Bay and the Gulf of Mexico.

"It's a great place to store water. It's where it wants to go," says Steve Suau, a former county stormwater utility manager. "And by adding water into the system, all the birds started coming back."

An urban bird sanctuary

Dubi and the Audubon Society persuaded the county to abandon its plans to build a park featuring, among other activities, soccer and horseback riding. Auduboners said the Celery Fields terrain better lent itself to an urban bird sanctuary that could prove to be a tourist draw.

"Steve Suau was one who understood that initially. The bulb went off in his head," says Dubi.

Audubon's initial contribution was advice: how often to spray, how often to mow, where to put boardwalks. The county installed 600,000 wetlands plants, and Audubon helped pick plants most attractive to birds.

A complex project is bound to hit some snags. A major one arose in 2000, when engineers determined the county's plans were inadequate to prevent flooding.

The restoration area had to shift. Bulldozers had to dig out another two feet of muck.

The result is an 85-foot-tall, 2,000-foot-long mound that looks like a landfill, but also adds a different perspective to the site, letting viewers survey the entire acreage, while attracting walkers and runners to its sloping pathways and the opportunity to train on a hill.

When the construction subsided in 2011, the birds came back again. What the site lacks in ambience -- industrial and commercial buildings lining its border, I-75 humming in the background -- it makes up in access for birders. The birds do not seem to care one way or the other.

Million-dollar

visitors' center

The latest change at the Celery Fields: Trees.

What was a treeless mound now has 2,286 trees and palms and 6,660 grasses planted and designed to mimic a hammock habitat.

Another 340 trees and palms, and 693 grasses, went in along Palmer Boulevard, and the county is building restrooms and expanding the parking lot.

Audubon's $1 million visitors' center will sit on an acre it has leased from the county for 30 years. The money comes from the club's 1,200 members, one of whom just donated $300,000 to reach the final figure.

Audubon has received a grant for solar panels, a landscape design from Tim Rummage's class at Ringling College of Art and Design and help from the Florida House with the roof and windows. Dubi expects to promote ecotourism from the site as well as offer nature classes.

Almost lost in the hullaballoo over birds, the Celery Fields has also been a resounding success in its primary missions.

The fields filled close to the top with water during Tropical Storm Debby in June 2012. But there was no flooding downstream, according to Peter Peduzzi of public works capital projects.

Water quality results were even more noteworthy. A Florida Department of Environmental Protection grant document estimated the project would reduce phosphorous levels by 24 percent, nitrogen by 5 percent and total suspended solids by 21 percent. Instead, over two years, the figures were 50 percent, 53 percent and 82 percent, respectively.

In April, in recognition of the project, Sarasota County received an Environmental Excellence Award in conservation from the National Association of Environmental Professionals.

The future looks equally bright from the vantage point of Virginia Haley, president of Visit Sarasota, the county's tourism bureau.

"Anytime you give out more information about nature, and about things to do, the more people spend and the better off we are," she says.

<p>In the field, when they are not peering through binoculars or checking off their life lists, avid birders often compare notes to learn what the hot sightings are that day. So it was last year when Jeanne Dubi, perched on a rocky bluff overlooking the Monterey coast in California, struck up a conversation with a pair of strangers.</p><p>After the obligatory "What have you seen?" the talk turned to "Where are you from?"</p><p>"Sarasota, Fla.," Dubi told them.</p><p>Their faces lit up. "Oh," one of them said. "The Celery Fields."</p><p>Not the Ringling Museum. Not Mote Marine Laboratory. Not Siesta Beach, once rated the No. 1 beach in the country.</p><p>What these Californians pictured when they thought of Sarasota was a 444-acre expanse of fields, lakes and marshes -- which also happens to be an ambitious drainage project -- that has turned Sarasota County into a top-notch destination for birders.</p><p>Dubi's story illustrates what has been accomplished through the imagination, good planning and cooperation of Sarasota County government and the Sarasota Audubon Society, of which Dubi is president.</p><p>Dubi moved here from New York in 1997 and found the Celery Fields soon afterward.</p><p>"It was all mounds of dirt then. But I started to keep a bird list. When I got to 132 species I went to Audubon and said, 'This is such a good birding site, what can we do to protect it?'"</p><p>Today, the species count at the Celery Fields is 217, impressive considering the count for the entire county is 300. Equally important to bird aficionados, "the birds you see here are very worth coming to see," Dubi says.</p><p>One year, a migration of swallows so massive it was picked up by radar descended on the fields. "It was an amazing sight, like watching the wildebeests," Dubi says. Researchers from Tulane and Louisiana State universities came to study the phenomenon.</p><p>And, as successful as the site has been as a birding attraction, it's soon to improve when Audubon builds a $1 million visitor center there.</p><p>Birthed by Bertha</p><p>The Celery Fields' history dates to 1910, when Chicago socialite Bertha Palmer bought 90,000 acres in the Sarasota area.</p><p>Palmer set aside 25,000 acres for farming, some of it in northeast Sarasota east of Honore Avenue, named for her son. When drained, much of that former sawgrass marshland had excellent soil, enriched by eons of rotting vegetation.</p><p>The Celery Fields earned its name from its primary crop for about 70 years. At one time, Sarasota was the largest producer of celery in Florida and the seventh largest in the United States. But by 1992, farming had lowered the elevation of the land and depleted the soil.</p><p>Then came the rain. Twenty-two inches fell over a few days. It sent water from the fields into Phillippi Creek and flooded 200 homes in the creek basin.</p><p>The county had to do something, so it bought the Celery Fields -- at the eastern edge of the basin -- and embarked on a $24 million project of weirs, gates, canals, drain pipes and wetlands restoration.</p><p>The idea was to resurrect some of the historic drainage patterns, hold water during heavy rains, let sediments settle, lessen the threat of floods and improve the quality of the water that eventually drains through the basin into Roberts Bay and the Gulf of Mexico.</p><p>"It's a great place to store water. It's where it wants to go," says Steve Suau, a former county stormwater utility manager. "And by adding water into the system, all the birds started coming back."</p><p>An urban bird sanctuary</p><p>Dubi and the Audubon Society persuaded the county to abandon its plans to build a park featuring, among other activities, soccer and horseback riding. Auduboners said the Celery Fields terrain better lent itself to an urban bird sanctuary that could prove to be a tourist draw.</p><p>"Steve Suau was one who understood that initially. The bulb went off in his head," says Dubi.</p><p>Audubon's initial contribution was advice: how often to spray, how often to mow, where to put boardwalks. The county installed 600,000 wetlands plants, and Audubon helped pick plants most attractive to birds.</p><p>A complex project is bound to hit some snags. A major one arose in 2000, when engineers determined the county's plans were inadequate to prevent flooding.</p><p>The restoration area had to shift. Bulldozers had to dig out another two feet of muck.</p><p>The result is an 85-foot-tall, 2,000-foot-long mound that looks like a landfill, but also adds a different perspective to the site, letting viewers survey the entire acreage, while attracting walkers and runners to its sloping pathways and the opportunity to train on a hill.</p><p>When the construction subsided in 2011, the birds came back again. What the site lacks in ambience -- industrial and commercial buildings lining its border, I-75 humming in the background -- it makes up in access for birders. The birds do not seem to care one way or the other.</p><p>Million-dollar</p><p>visitors' center</p><p>The latest change at the Celery Fields: Trees.</p><p>What was a treeless mound now has 2,286 trees and palms and 6,660 grasses planted and designed to mimic a hammock habitat.</p><p>Another 340 trees and palms, and 693 grasses, went in along Palmer Boulevard, and the county is building restrooms and expanding the parking lot.</p><p>Audubon's $1 million visitors' center will sit on an acre it has leased from the county for 30 years. The money comes from the club's 1,200 members, one of whom just donated $300,000 to reach the final figure.</p><p>Audubon has received a grant for solar panels, a landscape design from Tim Rummage's class at Ringling College of Art and Design and help from the Florida House with the roof and windows. Dubi expects to promote ecotourism from the site as well as offer nature classes.</p><p>Almost lost in the hullaballoo over birds, the Celery Fields has also been a resounding success in its primary missions.</p><p>The fields filled close to the top with water during Tropical Storm Debby in June 2012. But there was no flooding downstream, according to Peter Peduzzi of public works capital projects.</p><p>Water quality results were even more noteworthy. A Florida Department of Environmental Protection grant document estimated the project would reduce phosphorous levels by 24 percent, nitrogen by 5 percent and total suspended solids by 21 percent. Instead, over two years, the figures were 50 percent, 53 percent and 82 percent, respectively.</p><p>In April, in recognition of the project, Sarasota County received an Environmental Excellence Award in conservation from the National Association of Environmental Professionals.</p><p>The future looks equally bright from the vantage point of Virginia Haley, president of Visit Sarasota, the county's tourism bureau.</p><p>"Anytime you give out more information about nature, and about things to do, the more people spend and the better off we are," she says.</p><p><empty></p>